I was born to a farmer and a primary school teacher. Not so brilliant at studies, I was afraid of schooling. A painful experience was the loss of my father when I was just 7 but it turned out to be my strength as I grew up.
For, it was all about managing myself — finding my own way in a society that didn’t care for others. Everyone was after his or her own needs and aspirations and did not care to find time for others. This meant that I was left to fend for myself because there was no father figure to support me in deciding what to study and how to study although clothes and food did not appear to be that serious a concern those days.
Having said that, I remember painfully those school days when I was unable to buy a 3-paise ice-cream stick after lunch from the vendors outside the school. But that didn’t mean I hated those classmates who bought the ice sticks every day after lunch. All I knew was that my mother, who was a primary school teacher, did not have the money to spent for such things. I did not trouble her. The lucky ones in my class had parents who could afford to pay for luxuries such as shoes, good clothes and pocket money to travel by bus, or have food from restaurants, and have own cycles. These were my distinct memories.
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